


Catch of the Day

by the_dala



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-07
Updated: 2013-10-07
Packaged: 2017-12-28 19:18:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/995556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_dala/pseuds/the_dala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elizabeth believes Jack is missing something in his life and sets out to help him find it. Will finds this terribly unamusing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Somebody Has To Arrange the Matches

**Author's Note:**

> I'm archiving my old PotC fic - this was originally published on December 7th, 2003. These earlier stories are compliant with CoBP canon only and somewhat rough compared to my later fic. But I like to do things in order, so I'm posting them chronologically.
> 
> This one in particular is quite silly, and a permanently unfinished WIP. Chapter titles from "Fiddler on the Roof."

 

It was as they were having dinner on her first night aboard the _Pearl_ that Elizabeth told Jack he needed to “find someone.”

He and Will looked at each other in confusion. “Find someone to do what, Lizzie? I’ve got a full crew at the moment.”

“No,” she said impatiently, describing an arc in the air with one hand, _“someone,_ you know – a _special_ someone.”

Jack continued to stare at her. “Special how?” he asked, nibbling on a hard roll. “Good with knives, cutlass, pistol, rigging, petticoats...?”

“Special to _you,”_ said Elizabeth. “A significant other.”

Will got it then and shook his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Good luck with that, Elizabeth.”

“Will one of you please explain what in hell you’re talking about?” Jack demanded.

Elizabeth sighed. Men were impossibly dense when it came to matters of the heart. “What I am saying, Jack, is that you need to find a – a mate.”

Jack’s fork clattered onto his plate. “Whatever for?”

“To share things with! To love and cherish for all the rest of your days –”

“Ignore her,” Will advised. “It’s only because she’s getting married. She wants to drag you down with her.”

Elizabeth kicked him under the table. “It is _not,”_ she hissed. “I’m trying to help.”

Jack tried to reason with her. “Now see here, lass, I’m not on the lookout for –”

“And as if it would ever work,” said Will, clearly feeling as though he and Jack were on a united front against Elizabeth and that they had already declared victory. Jack, however, shot him a vaguely offended look.

“What’s wrong with Jack?” Elizabeth wanted to know.

“Yes, what’s wrong with Jack?” the subject of their debate parroted indignantly.

Will attempted to backtrack, seeing the threads begin to unravel. “I didn’t say there was anything wrong with him, I only meant – ”

“Jack is a good catch,” Elizabeth said. “He’s charming and handsome –”Jack grinned, pleased, and brushed his fingers over the back of her palm; she smacked at his hand and flashed her engagement ring at him. Jack cast what was merely the latest of a series of longing glances at the large diamond. “– and he’s his own businessman –”

“He’s a _pirate,”_ Will corrected.

“He’s still self-employed. And believe you me, I’m not the only girl who finds a certain degree of piracy mysterious and attractive.”

Jack twirled one half of his mustache, enjoying this immensely. “The wench has a point, William,” he said with a wink for each of them. “Several, in fact.”

Elizabeth shot Will a “see there!” look, not even objecting to the ‘w’ word she detested, and he rolled his eyes to the ceiling. Leave it to Jack to side with Elizabeth on the rare ocassion when she decided to employ her feminine wiles. Will himself had discovered, some weeks after the affair with Barbossa and the curse, that he much preferred her with a sword or pistol in hand. He had been delighted to have her aboard for a leisurely cruise around various ports in the Caribbean – she claimed it was her last test for Norrington, letting her sail alone with Jack and Will, and Will could only imagine what sort of wheedling and bargaining that agreement had involved. Nevertheless, here she was, on what she had taken to calling her final maiden voyage, and Will suddenly had a very bad feeling about how the rest of the journey was going to go.

“I’ve made a decision,” Jack announced theatrically. “Elizabeth...” He indicated her with a sweeping arm. “If you can find me a suitable person, I will make with the wooing, and we shall see what happens.”

“Shake on it,” Elizabeth said.

He nodded gravely and obeyed. Will looked down at their joined hands and muttered, “This cannot end well.”


	2. Well I Do the Best I Can

Elizabeth decided to begin at the beginning. They were still miles southwest of Savanna la Mer, and she wanted to start on her new project as soon as possible. Anamaria proved a difficult person to search out. Elizabeth exhausted herself combing the ship from bow to stern, finally coming across her quarry sitting on a barrel on the forecastle deck, spitting tobacco into the sea, where she had definitely not been ten minutes before.

Truth be told, Elizabeth was still a bit intimidated by Anamaria, her boldness when they were under attack on the _Interceptor_ notwithstanding. She operated well under pressure, but in casual situations tended to be much shyer; she had never spent much time around women not of her own class, with the exception of maids.

Still, she was doing this for Jack’s benefit, and she was determined to do it right.

“Good morning, Anamaria,” she said brightly. “Lovely weather today, isn’t it?”

Anamaria shrugged. She was not one for small talk. Elizabeth determined to cut right to the chase.

“I have a question for you, Ana.”

Anamaria raised her eyebrows, interested.

“Do you now hold, or have you ever held, a secret undying love for Jack Sparrow?”

For an instant all she got was a frozen stare. Then Anamaria threw her head back and roared with laughter.

Elizabeth stood there, miffed. It had been a perfectly reasonable question.

Pressing a hand to her ribs Anamaria gasped, between chortles, “Had no idea you possessed such a sense of humor, little girl.”

“Am I to take that as a ‘no,’ then?” Elizabeth sniffed, nose in the air, cheeks flaming. Her only answer was a fresh outbreak of mirth. She whirled on her heel and stalked away. It had been worth a try. They would certainly make a pretty pair. But then, she hadn’t actually expected anyone as down-to-earth as Anamaria to put up with Jack’s antics.

Elizabeth spotted Jack and Gibbs at the helm, pointing into the distance and arguing about some detail of navigation. It appeared that she would have to begin her search for Jack’s perfect woman in a port town she’d never visited. Well. Elizabeth Swann had faced far more daunting prospects in her young life, and she was certain that she would rise to this occasion as well.

~~~~~~~~

“We’re going _where_?”

Jack slung a companionable arm across Elizabeth’s shoulders. “Like I said, we’re going to the Lucky Drake, best tavern in town.” She ducked away from him and he shrugged, bringing Will under his arm instead. Will stuck his tongue out at Elizabeth, but she was so busy working up a fret at Jack’s news that she failed to notice.

“But there’ll be no women there but barmaids and whores!” she wailed.

Jack slung Will around the dock, already deep in his cups, as Will kept him from tripping over a loose coil of rope. Most of the crew strung out behind the three of them, watching with amusement. “One can only hope.”

Elizabeth placed herself directly in his path, hands on her hips, earning herself one of his full-body recoils of surprise. “How am I supposed to find you a suitable companion among that manner of woman?”

“Here’s a thought,” said Jack. “Trying looking. Try actually getting to know one or two. Then come find me – I’ll be at the best table in the house. Business tomorrow, fun tonight.” He pulled Elizabeth close again and this time she let him, though she was still pouting.

“You could have at least put something else on.”

“What else would I have worn?” Jack asked, puzzled, looking down at his normal clothing.

“Perhaps a pair of breeches that weren’t stained with tar?” she suggested petulantly. “We are going to a fine dining establishment, after all.”

“No, we’re going to a tavern to drink,” said Will. “It’s really not the same thing.”

“We shall have a _marvelous_ time,” Jack promised, his fingers lightly tapping her shoulder. “Even you, Lizzie-my-love.”


	3. Chapter 3

Perhaps Elizabeth might have had a good time under other circumstances. As it stood, she was far too preoccupied scanning the patrons of the tavern to really enjoy herself. Jack claimed it was because she’d only gotten halfway through the cup of ale in her hand.

A serving maid walked by their table, skipping nimbly around drunken carousers as she balanced a tray of drinks on one arm. She was pretty enough, but a close inspection of her face and Elizabeth saw that she was much too young – fourteen if she was a day. She wasn’t about to have Jack robbing the cradle, and the girl was probably the proprieter’s relation in some way. It was a bleak outlook so far: there were five or six prostitutes scattered throughout the room, but they were all in the company of other men. Elizabeth had warmed to the idea of finding a streetwalking lady for Jack: she was struck by a romantic idea of a poor girl who’d been cheated out of her fortune as a child by her nasty relatives. This girl worked the streets only because she had no other option to support herself, and all she wanted was a way out of her miserable life. Jack could swoop in and rescue her from her brutish, balding patrons, either bringing her with him on the _Pearl_ or keeping her in a little house on the coast and returning every few months for a tearful reunion. It was the perfect plan.

Except that none of the lusty women in the tavern looked like they were apt to go home sobbing to a sooty little room in an alley every night after they’d made enough money to buy food for the next day.

“Elizabeth, darling,” said Jack, leaning in close to her ear and startling her out of her reverie, “if you don’t stop glaring around the room, you’re going to scare off all the available lasses.”

“A lady never glares,” she said primly, glaring at him.

“What’s this, then,” he murmured, his attention caught by a new arrival. Elizabeth followed his gaze and spotted a beautiful, reasonably well-dressed redhead with curves she envied mightily.

“That one?” she said in an aside to Jack.

“Aye,” he said, gold flashing in his grin. “Bring me _that_ one.”

“Oh, bother,” Will muttered, covering his eyes and taking a hearty swig of his rum.

Elizabeth hurried over to the door before anyone else could snatch the target up. The woman blinked long lashes over blue-green eyes to which her satin gown was perfectly matched. She was so very lovely that Elizabeth, never one to notice the looks of other females in such a way, nonetheless found herself on the verge of stammering.

“My companions,” she said, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “Over there –” She pointed blindly. “They’d like to meet you.”

The woman opened her mouth and Elizabeth winced at the nasal tone of her voice, not to mention the stale scent of her breath. “That fancy-lookin’ bloke with the hair baubles?” she asked, considering. “Yeah, awright, he looks like a good tumble.” She bustled over to Jack’s table, leaving Elizabeth standing in shock. She had been expecting a certain type of voice and manner of speech to go with that face, and the reality was quite different. Begining to reconsider this particular option, she looked over to see Jack already hard at work charming the beauty, who laughed loud and shrill, sounding remarkably like a whinnying horse. Will was hunkered down with his chin resting on his crossed arms, nursing his mug with a dark, cryptic look on his face. Elizabeth supposed he was jealous of the attention she was paying Jack. She made a mental note to promise that she’d find him a lady as soon as she was done with Jack.

Just then a large, swarthy man knocked into her, his ale spilling all down the front of her simple blue cotton dress.

“Sorry, miss,” he mumbled drunkenly at her yell, which barely rose to the level of the din in the tavern. He stumbled off and she squeezed herself through the knot of people at the door. The brisk night air was a relief after the close quarters inside. She found a nearby horse trough and washed her sticky hands, cursing Savanna la Mer and all its inhabitants with a fluency that would have surprised even Jack.

When she returned to the tavern, she thought for a moment that Jack had left without her seeing him. As she made her way back to the table, however, she discovered that he had merely been concealed beneath the red-haired woman Elizabeth had picked up for him and another woman, this one a chesty blonde. She could just barely see Jack’s hair peeking out in the gap between the redhead, who was seated beside him and kissing him passionately, and the blonde, who was on his lap and toying with his open shirt, giggling.

Elizabeth shoved her off Jack’s knee, ignoring her outraged cry, and tapped the redhead politely on the shoulder. She looked up from her business, leaving Jack’s ear free for Elizabeth to pinch.

“Oww!” he screeched as she tugged him to his feet. The two women began talking at once, insulting Elizabeth’s hair, clothing, bustline, and ancestry. She ignored them and kept her grip on Jack’s ear.

“Bloody hell, Elizabeth!”

“Indeed,” she said coolly as she directed him outside, finally releasing him near the trough she’d just used. He immediately stuck his wounded ear – and subsequently half his head – in the water.

Flinging his wet hair back, he muttered, “I needed that in more ways than one.” He then splashed Elizabeth, who merely ducked and sent a wave of water back at him, with slightly better aim.

“What the hell did you do tha’ for?” Jack spluttered, checking to make sure his kohl hadn’t gotten damaged. “I was just gettin’ to know Graziella and Velma!”

“You were not!” Elizabeth shouted, splashing him again to accent her point. “You were getting one or both of them into bed!”

“Isn’t that the whole bleeding point of your venture?” He moved far enough away that she couldn’t reach him with any more water.

Elizabeth rounded on him, poking her finger into his chest as he continued backing up. “No, it isn’t! You don’t bed a woman five minutes after you meet her, not if you’re trying to build a lasting bond!”

“You don’t?” Jack hit the back of his head on the low-hanging tavern sign and swore. He collapsed on the cobblestones, shaking the water out of his eyes and blinking pitifully up at her. She knew he was only pulling that kicked puppy face to try and appease her, but it worked anyway. With an indulgent sigh she knelt beside him and straightened his bandana, which had gotten pulled most of the way over his eyes.

“Perhaps this is going to be more difficult than I thought,” she admitted.

“You really owe me for that one, Lizzie.”

“Where’s Will gone to, anyway?”

“Don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “He always disappears whenever we get, ah, involved in affairs in places like this. Eunuch, you know,” he said in a conspirational whisper.

She rolled her eyes. “Are you ever going to let that go? He isn’t, and you know it.”

“Well, virgin, anyway. It’s the same difference.”

“Thank you for that outstanding compliment, Jack,” said Will, coming down the street. He took in the sight of Jack and Elizabeth, now fairly soaked, and smiled wryly. “Looks like I missed some high times.”

Jack shot Elizabeth a resentful look. “No more’n I did.” He reached out a hand and Will hauled him to his feet.

“Ooof,” said Jack, overbalancing and nearly sending both himself and Will toppling. Elizabeth pulled on his jacket and Will pushed him up, until they got him standing properly again.

“It looks like the night is a bust,” Jack said regretfully. “I suppose we might as well get back to the _Pearl_. At least _she_ won’t ever viciously pinch bits of me or drag friendly women off me lap...”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” said Will, clapping him on the back.

Men, thought Elizabeth in disgust. They were entirely hopeless. Both Jack and Will ought to be grateful to have her around. She couldn’t imagine what they’d get up to if they had only each other.

~~~~~~~~

After a day of bartering off some of the loot in the _Pearl’s_ hold, they set sail for Falmouth, more than a week’s journey around the western coast of Jamaica. Elizabeth spent a couple of days making herself useful around the ship before she sought out Jack for questioning about the incident at the Lucky Drake. She found him in the main hold several hours after dawn, dueling with Will.

For a few minutes she sat and watched them; it was a treat most girls weren’t lucky enough to have, and she was as interested in the art of fencing as she was aesthetically invested in the two combatants. They were both very skilled and they fought as intensely as if it were a real battle. Will had more technical knowledge to fall back on, though Jack was apt to be more creative – to cheat, as his opponent often accused him. She would have given a great deal to be a fly on the wall of the smithy on the day that Jack had rescued her from the sea and he and Will had first crossed blades. They had told her the tale, interrupting each other and bickering about the course of events, but she thought it must have been a sight to see.

When it seemed as though they weren’t going to wind things down, though they were both perspiring heavily, she spoke up. “Might I have a word, Jack?”

“Ho, Lizzie,” he called in greeting, narrowly parrying a concentrated thrust from Will. “Bit busy at the moment, stop by again when I’ve beaten the whelp.”

“But I’d like to talk to you now,” she said.

“Maybe we ought to stop,” Will suggested. He caught Jack’s blade on a downswing, locking them hilt to hilt, but Jack saw it coming and shoved him off before he had a chance to use his slight weight advantage and bear down.

“Is that a concession?” Jack wanted to know. Will’s only answer was a determined grunt and a fresh attack.

Elizabeth drew in the dust on the floor with the toes of her boots. “You both look very fine and dashing and manly, but I really do have something important to say.” She uncoiled a length of rope from the staircase and flicked it at their feet like a whip. Jack managed to leap clear, but Will tripped on the snaking end and went down, throwing his sword aside so that he wouldn’t chance to fall on it. Instantly Jack’s blade was at his throat.

“I win!” Jack crowed, flicking Will’s hair back with the tip of his sword.

“That doesn't count! There was interference!”

“Right,” said Elizabeth sweetly, “sorry about that, I know it was very dangerous and all but it’s worked out in the end, hasn’t it.” She hooked her arm around Jack’s elbow and pulled him away before he had a chance to lose himself in gloating. Will got up, muttering darkly under his breath, and followed them up the hatch after retrieving his sword from a corner.

Elizabeth dragged Jack to the galley and pushed him onto a bench. “Now tell me what went wrong in Savanna la Mer.”

“Oh, you’re not still on about that, are you,” Will groaned from where he was leaning against a bulkhead, pulling at a loose thread on his sleeve.

“A good friend would be _helping_ me,” Elizabeth informed him. He snorted and murmured something that sounded a good deal like ‘help you right off the plank if you like.’ She chose to ignore this kind of lowbrow dig and focused on Jack again, slapping her palm down on the table in front of him. “Speak, Sparrow.”

Jack shrugged. “I don’t know what you want to hear. They were whores.”

“That’s where you wanted me to look, remember? You personally suggested the redhead.”

“Graziella,” said Jack with a fond smile.

“Whatever. What was wrong with her?”

“Nothing was _wrong_ with her, precisely –” Jack began.

“Then why did you jump the gun, so to speak?” Elizabeth wanted to know.

Jack stroked his braided beard, pleasant reminisce still in his eyes. “Of the two of us, it weren’t her being jumped...”

“So. To. Speak,” Elizabeth repeated through clenched teeth. She didn’t think anyone in the world could make her use that tone as often as Jack Sparrow did. It was the one she would probably use on her children when they were fraying her last nerve. On second thought, perhaps she owed Jack thanks for helping her to perfect it before it was actually needed.

“Well,” he said, clearing his throat, “first of all, she was _that_ kind of pretty.” He splayed his fingers out on ‘that’ for added emphasis

“What kind of pretty would that be?”

“You know,” said Jack vaguely, “ _that_ kind.”

“The kind of pretty,” Will piped in, “where other men would be looking at you with envy, and your lady would look right back at them.”

“Exactly,” said Jack enthusiastically. “The kind of pretty you can’t trust, the big eyes that’ll tear up whenever you discover she’s lured another one in till you start to feel it was your fault somehow.”

Elizabeth looked from one to the other. “Are you both quite serious?” Jack and Will nodded gravely. “You’re actually faulting the woman for being attractive?”

“No, no, for being attractive and unfaithful,” said Jack.

“But she hadn’t had a chance to be unfaithful yet!”

“Oh, but she would have found one,” he assured her. She looked to Will, incredulous at this line of male reasoning, and saw that he agreed with Jack.

She decided to let it go. “All right. What else?”

“Dumb as rocks,” said Jack immediately. “Both of them, actually.”

As Elizabeth had heard Graziella speak, she couldn’t exactly argue with him, but she felt she ought to take offense on behalf of her sex. “If you think you’re going to find an theology scholar, Jack –”

“Lizzie, darling, look at the female I’ve been spending the greatest deal of time around. Do you really think I’d be able to put up with a simpleton after being presented with you at your worst?” He gave her his smouldering eyes and the most seductive smile out of the many he had at his disposal.

“Flattery,” said Elizabeth, “will get you nowhere.”

Will leaned over her shoulder. “Your ears are bright red, Miss Swann.” She hit him hard. He chuckled, but out of the corner of her eye she caught him rubbing his arm.

“So, in summation,” said Jack, always ready to bring the focus of attention back on himself, “I could spend a night with the lovely Misses Graziella and Velma, but no longer than that.”

Elizabeth propped her elbows on the table and let her chin drop into her hands, not caring much for this conclusion.

“Is this the end of the story?” Will asked.

“No,” she said, determined once again. “We’re merely back at square one. We’ll be in Falmouth in about four days, am I right? And we’ll just have to start over while we're there.” Satisfied, she left to find Gibbs and an assignment for the rest of the day, plans whirling in her head.

Will shot Jack an look fraught with accusation.

“What? What did I do this time?” Jack demanded. Will just shook his head and went the way of Elizabeth.

“Not like he’s got any counter-offers for me,” Jack sulked to himself, after a practiced study of Will’s retreating backside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of an homage to "West Side Story" with the ladies' names.


End file.
